


A Couple of Firsts

by Fenchurch87



Series: Tales of Kirkwall (and Beyond) [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Internal Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 00:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21110033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenchurch87/pseuds/Fenchurch87
Summary: Two milestones in Marian Hawke and Anders's relationship. Originally written in response to a writing prompt on /r/dragonage.





	A Couple of Firsts

The soft blue light danced through the air, mirroring his every movement. The glowing orb beneath his right hand hovered over the young boy's forehead, soothing the pain and calming the fever, while the one to his left was directed towards the patient's chest, easing his breathing. _Just a little more_, he thought. He could feel the refugee's strength returning even as his own ebbed away, each twitch of his fingers restoring him to life.

The boy took a breath, a smooth, steady breath that was a far cry from the rasping wheeze he had suffered from earlier. A moment later, the child sat up and was promptly enfolded in his sobbing mother's arms.

Anders's vision swam as he turned away from the table, and it was all he could do not to stumble into the wall. A steadying hand appeared on his shoulder, and he looked up into the eyes of the boy's father. “Thank you,” the man said, giving him a brief nod before gathering up his family and leaving the clinic.

Footsteps distracted him from his exhaustion. Four people had just entered the room, all of them bearing weapons judging by the reflections they cast on the far wall. The spirit inside his head stirred.

“I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation.” He reached for his staff, prepared for the worst. “Why do you threaten it?”

There was a short pause, and then the sound of somebody stepping forward. “Please.” The speaker was a woman, and Anders thought he could detect a Ferelden accent. “We mean no harm. We just want to talk to you. We need your help.”

Interesting. Most Fereldens who came to him for help didn't show up armed to the teeth. The woman had a lovely voice, though, he would give her that much. _Fool._ Justice felt confused, and maybe a little annoyed. _Why are you so captivated by a voice? You have far more important things to be thinking about–_ The thought was abruptly cut off as he turned around to face the newcomers.

The woman who stood before him was, without question, beautiful. Her hair was long and flowing, cascading down her back in thick red waves. Her complexion was flawless and perfectly complimented by her full lips and high cheekbones. Her eyes were a stunning shade of emerald green and seemed to sparkle mischievously. She wore light armour, close fitting enough to give just the smallest hint of womanly curves beneath. She gave him a hopeful smile, and he felt his pulse quicken.

“Are you Anders?” she asked. “We're here to talk to you. About the Deep Roads.”

“Did the Wardens send you to bring me back?” His mouth twisted involuntarily at the thought. “I'm not going. Those bastards made me get rid of my cat. Poor Ser Pounce-a-lot hated the Deep Roads.”

The woman raised an sceptical eyebrow. “You had a cat named Ser Pounce-a-lot? In the Deep Roads?”

“Yes. He was a noble beast. Almost got ripped in half by a genlock once, but he swatted the bugger on the nose. Drew blood too. The blighted Wardens said he made me too soft. I had to leave him behind after that.”

“I... see.” She stared at him for a while, and then cleared her throat. “Sorry. Let me start again. My name is Marian Hawke. This is my brother Carver.” She indicated the tall, surly looking young man beside her. “And these are our friends Varric and Aveline.” The dwarf and the woman in Guard uniform nodded to him in turn. “I'm part of an expedition into the Deep Roads. Any maps or information you have could save people's lives.”

He shook his head. “I will die a happy man if I never have to think about the Deep Roads again. You don't know what I've come through to get here. I'm not interested.”

Marian Hawke's face fell, and an unexpected jolt of guilt hit him. “Although...” A thought struck. “What about a favour for a favour? Does that sound like a fair deal? You help me, I'll help you?”

“Help my expedition reach the Deep Roads, and I'll do whatever you need.”

“You don't ask for my terms? What if I were asking for the Knight-Commander's head on a spike?”

Much to his surprise, Marian Hawke laughed, a light, tinkling laugh that sounded like music to his ears. “Is that what you ask?”

“You decide.” A chuckle of his own escaped his throat. “No. I came to Kirkwall to aid a friend. He's a prisoner in the wretched Gallows, and the Templars learned of my plans to free him. Help me bring him safely past them, and you shall have your maps.”

“I'm in.”

“Really?” In the furthest corner of his mind, Justice shifted suspiciously. “You agree just like that? You must be desperate for those maps.”

“I am. But there's something else.” Marian Hawke held out her hand. As he watched, a tiny flame appeared just above her palm.

“What are you doing, sister?” Carver protested.

She silenced him with a wave of her other hand, her eyes never leaving Anders's face. “I agreed because I always help my fellow mages. We... apostates have to stick together, don't you think?”

“Yes. Of course.” Maker, he was an idiot. That wasn't a cudgel she wore strapped to her back, it was a staff. He could see it now. “I have already sent word for Karl to meet me in the Chantry tonight. Join us there, and we'll ensure that no matter who is there with him, we all walk away free.”

“We'll be there.” Hawke paused at the door and looked back at him, a small smile playing across her lips. “It was nice to meet you, Anders.”

*****

“Puss, puss, puss. Here, kitty.”

“What are you doing, Anders?”

He suppressed a groan at the musical laugh that sounded from behind him. Of course the woman who occupied his every waking thought had to show up while he was crawling around on the floor making cooing noises. He rose to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster before turning to face her.

“Putting out milk. I miss having a cat around. But I think the refugees have scared them all off. Or maybe eaten them.”

“Ugh.” Hawke wrinkled her nose.

“Sorry.” He looked at her awkwardly. Being around her put thoughts in his head that had no right to be there. He should send her away; that would be better for both of them, he knew that. But he didn't want her to leave. “Would you like to come in for a bit? I have some time before my patients start to arrive.”

“Alright.” Hawke smiled at him, and his heart fluttered in his chest as he led her inside the clinic.

“You know, I've been meaning to thank you. For sticking your neck out for other mages. You're the kind of leader we need, to tell the world we won't be punished any longer for our Maker given gifts.”

Hawke shrugged. “I'm just trying to do the right thing. Besides,” she added, “I don't want to see the Templars lock you up.” She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke, her meaning clear.

“Hawke, I–” His resolve almost buckled under her gaze. “This has to stop.”

“What has to stop?”

“This. I've tried to hold back. But if you keep teasing me like this, I won't be able to resist.”

“Teasing you?” she repeated incredulously. “You think I'm teasing you?” He saw anger flash in her green eyes and knew he had made a mistake. “Do you think this is fun?” she continued, her voice rising in volume. “Do you think I'm enjoying this, not knowing what you want because you've given me nothing but mixed signals for three years?”

“Hawke–”

“I'm not teasing you. I'm trying to tell you how I really feel. Now could you please extend me the same courtesy and tell me how you really feel? What do you want, Anders?”

“You.”

He crossed the room in two steps, three years of longing and frustration overflowing inside him. She gasped in surprise as his mouth covered hers, and then she was wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back just as passionately. She pulled him closer, pressing her body against his, and a low, involuntary moan escaped his lips. Her hands moved to his waist, fumbling with his belt buckle, and he stepped away with a sigh.

Hawke leaned against the wall, panting, looking every bit as flustered as he felt. “Well,” she began with a laugh, “that was certainly worth waiting for.”

“Why aren't you afraid of me?” Was he dreaming? It wasn't possible that a woman like her could feel this way about a man like him. He blinked rapidly in a bid to wake up, but the room and Hawke remained solid.

“Afraid of you?” She snorted loudly. “I have worse nightmares about disappointing my mother.”

“I'm serious, Hawke. You know what I am. You saw what I almost did to that girl. Are you sure you want to do this?”

She gazed at him through lowered lashes. “Come to the estate tonight, and I'll show you just how sure I am.”

Oh, Maker. He was lost forever now. She had broken down every one of his walls. But he had to give her one final way out. “Very well. If your door is open tonight, I will come to you. If not, I'll know you took my warning at last.”

“I'll be waiting,” she replied in a breathy whisper. Her lips lightly brushed his cheek, and then she was walking away with a seductive sway to her hips that Isabela would have been proud of.

He scrubbed a hand across his face and set about tidying away some empty potion bottles, trying not to think of what the evening might bring and choosing to ignore the faint feeling of disgust that emanated from the furthest reaches of his mind.


End file.
